


Evacuate

by Selador



Series: Sel's Prompt Fills and Other Ficlets [17]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Galahdian Culture, Gen, M/M, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 12:18:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15170615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selador/pseuds/Selador
Summary: Nyx is off hunting for his town when he runs into a blond boy.





	Evacuate

**Author's Note:**

> sirona-the-healer asked: Could you write Promnyx, maybe with some time travel shenanigans?

Nyx is off on a hunt—it’s stormy, wet, and miserable, but their village is running out of food—when a blond boy he doesn’t recognize appears from nowhere. **  
**

“Nyx!” the boy calls out. Not a boy, actually—closer up, Nyx estimates he’s about his own age. Maybe a little older, but his face is tired but fresh and smooth. Definitely not a native of Galahd, but the hair is enough of a tell for that.

Nyx has never seen blond hair before. It shines like the sun, even in the rain.

“Nyx!” the man calls again, getting closer. “Look, this isn’t going to make much sense, but—the Empire on its way to attack. You need to evacuate.”

Nyx stares at him, and lightning flashes behind the boy. It aims for him and–aims away from him, striking to the side to quite a loud bit of thunder.

It surprises the man, startling a bit. Not Galahdian at all.

And when he turns his head, Nyx sees the movement of a necklace, and just barely recognizes the bead on the end as one from Ramuh’s walks. He can’t see the exact color–the man is still standing too far away–but he realizes what that means.

Enough of a Galahdian to be offered someone’s bead, and enough of a Galahdian for Ramuh to treat him like them. Nyx should listen to him.

Nyx licks his lips. “How far is the Empire?”

The man relaxes, clearly relieved that Nyx believes him.

“They’re a week away,” he says. “You need to get out of here.”

“First,” Nyx says. “We hunt. People need food to evacuate. Then we’ll go back and gather everyone.” The man hesitates, but nods. “What’s your name, stranger?”

“Uh–it’s Prompto,” he says. “Just Prompto.”

Nyx frowns. He really expected to get the name of his spouse–wouldn’t this Prompto know that the name of his Galahdian spouse would carry more weight in Galahd than his own? “And your spouse’s name?” He steps closer, to get a better look at his bead, but he man covers it with his shirt.

“It doesn’t matter,” Prompto says. “He’s dead, anyway.”

“Oh,” Nyx says, stopping. “I see.” It still would be helpful to know, and Nyx isn’t ashamed to admit that he’s  _curious_ , but Galahdians understand the desire to just  _move on_.

“So what are you hunting?” he asks. He pulls out a gun, which Nyx has never seen before. They’re not popular to make, in Galahd. To many resources to keep it usable.

“A spiracorn,” Nyx says. “Come with me. And be quiet.”


End file.
